Into The Fire (The Ending Series) by Lindsey Fairleigh, Lindsey Pogue Read Free Book Online

hospital
that’s bothering me, exactly, but the fact that it has electricity, which I
haven’t seen in months. I’ve decided I hate florescent lights.
    Mostly, I just
want to get back to Zo’s camp. Jason and Zo and the others are probably
freaking out, and I can’t even use my telepathy to let them know I’m okay. I
mean, my Ability’s working, but it’s not strong enough to reach across the
fifty or so miles separating us. FML.
     
     
    Thin paper crinkled beneath me as I shifted my butt on the
padded exam table. I was sitting on the edge, my legs dangling over the foot of
the table. It was my first official trip out of my itty-bitty hospital room
since waking this morning, and MG had escorted me down a single flight of
stairs and all the way to…an even smaller room. How lovely.
    At least I had a change of scenery. I’d exchanged a hospital
bed, beeping monitors, and a cramped bathroom for an exam room containing only
a padded table, a rolly stool, and a cabinet-counter-sink-desk fixture that
looked to have been manufactured in the 1980s.
    I sighed heavily. “I still don’t really remember what
happened,” I told the doctor, who was standing in front of me. She leaned close
as she shined a small, painfully bright penlight into my eyes. She was
middle-aged, her gray-streaked, black hair was cut in a tasteful bob that
reached just past her chin, and her eyes were a deep, ocean blue. They hardened
at my words. Well, excuse me.
    She clicked the light off, stuck it in the breast pocket of
her lab coat, and shook her head, making her sleek hair sway. “You’ll have to
ask your Domestication Officer. I’m not up to date on your background
information.”
    “Doctor…”—I glanced at the front of her coat,
double-checking the silver name badge pinned to her lapel—“Wesley, I’m not
asking for special treatment or anything. I’m just…confused.” I took a deep
breath, then shivered, thinking they had enough power to bump the thermostat up
a few notches based on all the lights glowing throughout the building. “I mean,
I was in the woods, and then I woke up in a hospital bed…I don’t remember getting
attacked by Crazies…I don’t remember getting saved by the soldiers…I don’t
remember coming here…I don’t remember anything . It’s strange.”
    The taupe walls of the cramped exam room seemed to be
closing in on me, awakening a newfound claustrophobia. All the shiny
instruments and disposable utensils on the counter took on a new, menacing
purpose, and I shivered again. A thin, bleach-white cotton robe was the only
thing covering my peek-a-boo hospital gown. It wasn’t doing much to stave off
the chill.
    “You remember something from before you were—” Dr. Wesley
snapped her mouth shut as she stepped over to the counter a few feet away from
the foot of the exam table and flipped open a folder. “Hmmm…you’re not
a…usually I only deal with…” She shook her head. “This is very unusual.” Her
intense blue eyes studied my face, and the delicate lines spider webbing across
her temples and around the corners of her mouth deepened.
    “Unusual” wasn’t quite the word I would’ve used, but
her acknowledging the oddness of my lost hours made me feel a little
vindicated. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I mean, is it normal for a
concussion to lead to memory loss?” I asked the doctor. “All I remember is
stepping out after…um…hanging out with my friends.” Blushing, I recalled the
delicious sensations I’d experienced at Jason’s fingertips—and other parts—only
a few minutes before getting knocked out. “I remember walking a little further
into the woods, and then I woke up here. I don’t think I even have
a…whatever-you-called-it officer.”
    “Domestication Officer,” Dr. Wesley said absentmindedly
before shaking her head and whispering, “Gabriel. I should have known.” With
renewed interest, she returned to the first medical chart in the folder